that!"

"Well," sighed Lynn, "you can never tell what's coming, and in the
meantime it's almost twelve o'clock."

With the happy faculty of youth, Lynn was asleep almost as soon as his
head touched the pillow. Iris lay with her eyes wide open, staring into
the dark, inert and helpless under the influence of that anodyne which
comes at the end of a hurt, simply through lack of the power to suffer
more. The three letters under her pillow brought a certain sense of
comfort. In the midst of the darkness which surrounded her, someone
knew, someone understood--loved her, and was content to wait.

Margaret was troubled because of Lynn's disbelief in himself. His sunny
self-confidence was apparently put to rout by this new phase. Then she
remembered that they had all passed through a time of stress, that Lynn,
strong and self-reliant as he had been, must have felt it, too, and,
moreover, the artistic temperament in itself was inclined to various
eccentricities.

Of his future, she never for one moment had any doubt. It was her
heart's desire that Lynn should be an artist. Looking back upon her
life and upon all that she had suffered, she saw this one boon as full
compensation--as her just due. If this bone of her bone and flesh of
her flesh might wear the laurel crown of the great, she would be
content--would not begrudge the price which she had paid for it.

She smiled ironically at the thought that, while credit was given to
some, she had been compelled to pay in advance. "It does not matter,"
she mused, "we must all pay, and it may be all the sweeter because I
know that no further payment will be demanded."

She was thinking of it when she fell asleep, and in her dream she stood
at a counter with a great throng of people, pushing and jostling.

Behind the counter was one in the form of a man who appeared to be an
angel. His face was serene and calm; he seemed far removed from the
passions which swayed the multitude. He conducted his business without
hurry or fret, and all the pushing availed nothing. His voice was clear
and high, and had in it a sense of finality. No one questioned him,
though many went away grumbling.

"You have come to buy wealth?" he asked. "We have it for sale, but the
price of it is your peace of mind. For knowledge, we ask human sympathy;
if you take much of it, you lose the capacity to feel with your fellow
men. If you take beauty, you must give up your right to love, and take
the risk of an